Broken Broomsticks and Broken Hearts
by Writings-From-Madz
Summary: The Battle for Hogwarts is over and won. Voldemort is defeated. Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley see each other for the first time since they left Hogwarts, and seek comfort with each other in the aftermath of the battle.


Broken Broomsticks and Broken Hearts

Wood took in a deep breath and let it out, slowly, as he walked through the rubbled remains of the Great Hall. The battle was over and won, but at what cost? The room was filled with bodies covered in sheets. His eyes lingered on the blanket which he knew hid the body of Colin Creevey. He was just a 16 year old kid who should never have been involved. Carrying his body into the Hall with Neville had been the heaviest load he'd ever had to bear.

He sighed again and decided to leave the Hall, unable to stand it any longer. He stepped out through the large double doors and to the staircase, pausing when he spotted Percy Weasley sitting halfway up the stairs, his head bowed, and elbows resting on his knees. Poor guy, to have lost his brother like that. He and Percy had shared a dormitory together for 7 years, and in that time, though Percy had kept mainly to himself and his ambitions, he had shared several quite deep conversations with him over the years. Wood had always secretly carried a torch for him, Percy's ambition and drive for what he wanted something he could certainly relate to. He cleared his throat and slowly made his way over.

"Uh, hi," Wood managed, walking up the steps until he was level with Percy.

Percy lifted his head, spotting a rough-looking Wood and nodded in acknowledgement before he looked back down.

"What are you doing here by yourself?" Wood asked, sitting down next to him. "Shouldn't you be…well…elsewhere?"

"With my family, you mean? How can I? How can I possibly face them now, after everything that's happened? My position with the Ministry clouded my common sense. I turned on them. I followed the utter lie about the Dark Lord's return and rise to power and estranged myself from them. I stood by as the Ministry ignored the threat and grew more and more corrupt until all this happened!" He exclaimed, motioning to the damaged castle around them.

Wood scratched the back of his head and gave a heavy sigh.

"It's not your fault," he said, quietly. "It's not. You can't be blamed for this. Regardless of what happened with the Ministry, you weren't fighting with them today, were you? You were fighting with your family, against the Ministry. Against your colleagues. Corrupt or not, these were people you'd come to know. That can't have been easy for you."

Percy sniffed and closed his eyes.

"Fred's gone. I watched it. He's gone and I…"

"And you were there with him in those last moments, fighting side by side with him. As brothers. That's what counts. That's what happened. He knew you got all caught up in everything, I'm sure. You were standing with him in those last moments. From that, he'd have known."

Percy sighed and shook his head. It had been barely any time at all between his attempt at an apology towards his family, and Fred's death. It hadn't been enough. He'd missed out on years with Fred because of all this.

Wood noticed Percy was becoming more upset. He wrapped his arm around his shoulders and squeezed, wincing a little as his shoulder and several ribs had been injured after he'd been thrown from his broom during the battle.

"It's not your fault, Percy. It's not. Your family know that, too. And I'm sure they'd be at least a little more at peace knowing that Fred had his brother there with him, at the end," Wood offered, quietly.

Percy swallowed thickly and found himself leaning against Wood as he comforted him. He was quite grateful for Wood then, helping to put things back into perspective. He knew the guilt would stay with him for a long time, if not forever. But during this time when he found himself unable to face his family for too long, he was very glad to at least still have one friend who was there for him during his time in need.

"Fred was an excellent beater. He enjoyed bashing those bludgers about more than anyone else I'd ever seen," he offered, trying to get Percy to focus on the good things about his brother, rather than the tragedy for a little bit.

Percy couldn't help but smile slightly at that. Quidditch really was Wood's default.

"Yes, he and George did like it. They used to practice making it look like they'd accidentally hit those bludgers into the teachers' stand."

Wood rubbed Percy's shoulder again and then looked at his face.

"I'm sorry. I really, really am, Percy. If there's anything I can do, just let me know, okay?"

"Thank you, Oliver. I appreciate it," he responded. "How are you? Are you okay? I saw you and Longbottom carrying in that Creevey boy. That must have been difficult."

Wood removed his arm from Percy's shoulder and cleared his throat.

"I feel horrible for his parents. They're muggles, both of them. They must have been so excited when he came to Hogwarts, and now…"

"I'll make sure the Ministry sends special condolences," Percy replied.

Percy looked up at Wood, his head turning to the side a little.

"Have you been checked out by the nurse? You're favouring your shoulder."

"It's fine, don't worry. I managed to get myself in Madame Pomfrey's hands far too often while I was a student. I'm not looking forward to heading back just yet," he scoffed. "I'm sure it's just bruised or something. Got cursed off my broom in the courtyard. It's in broken pieces now. But, I've fallen off my broom enough times, so I'm sure I managed to minimise the impact. It's become second nature, almost."

A small smile managed to reach Percy's face at that.

"Yes, you did spend a lot of our education at the hospital wing," he replied, glad for the momentary distraction.

"I think the bludgers got a taste for me early on. But, now I'm playing professionally with a different set of bludgers who don't know me so well, so I'm falling off a lot less frequently," Wood joked in response.

Percy scoffed and bumped his shoulder against Wood's, before he grimaced as he realised he'd just knocked the man's injured shoulder.

"Oh, sorry," he apologised, placing a hand gently on Wood's shoulder.

Wood shook his head and placed his hand over Percy's.

"It's fine," he assured.

Both men looked at each other a few moments, their hands lingering on each other's, their eyes locked. It was like a magical link formed between them in their moments of recovery. Wood found himself leaning in towards Percy and placed his lips on the other man's lips. He lingered for a moment, before he pulled back, and he realised just what he'd done.

"Oh no. I'm sorry. Sorry, Percy, I…that was wrong of me," Wood apologised, shaking his head and letting go of Percy's hand. "I don't know why I did that. I just…"

Percy shook his head, his cheeks a subtle shade of pink beneath the dirt he had yet to wipe from his face. He had never done anything like that before. But how many times had he thought of doing such a thing? And now it had happened, amidst all this personal anguish and tragedy. He was filled with a mix of emotions. He was mortified at his brother's death, ashamed of his actions with his family in the events leading up to this, he was upset about all the death and destruction he'd witnessed during the battle, and he felt guilt that there he was, kissing someone when so many had just died and would never experience such a thing again. And yet, the kiss and physical contact had provided him with the kind of comfort he felt he needed after all of these horrors had occurred.

"It's okay, Oliver. I would be lying if I said it didn't…help," he admitted, clearing his throat.

Wood shifted his position and scratched his head, looking about them. What would other people think if they saw the two of them kissing so long after so much death and tragedy? It probably wasn't a good example to be setting.

"All the same, I think maybe you should head over to your family again. You should be with them during this time, not out here snogging with someone you haven't seen for the last few years," Wood responded, smiling a little at Percy. "And...well…if you want, I can see you later on. You know…if you want to..."

Percy nodded, pausing a moment before he took Wood's hand once more and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I would like that. I would," he replied, before he stood up. "Thank you, Oliver. For this. For _all_ of it. It really helped."

Wood gave a small smile and stood up as well, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I'm glad I could help. I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yes, you will. Oh, and Oliver? Go and see Madame Pomfrey, yes?"

"I will."

Percy nodded and then turned to look back down the staircase and towards the entrance to the Great Hall, beyond which he knew his family were grieving together. Wood was right. He should be with them. He straightened himself out, took in a deep breath and then headed back into the Great Hall, walking down to the front where his family were all seated at a bench together.

The kiss had also helped both men in the aftermath of the battle, leaving them wondering where it would lead the two of them. It had given the both of them something to think about and something to focus on for the future, and that was one of the best ways the both of them could begin to heal. One thing was for sure: what was to come, they would face it together and they would heal together.


End file.
